5 Times Toshinori Called Izuku His Son
by Faisalliot
Summary: ...and the one time Izuku called him 'dad'. Done for the Dad Week, June 3rd - June 9th.


**Look at my lil gremlin hands stitching two parts of the same prompts together lmao.**

Upon registering the lack of sound around him, Toshinori lifted his head from his Teaching For Dummy's book and peered around. Where has Izuku gone off to? Oh jeez, poor kiddo hadn't passed out, had he? He hadn't done that in months, so that probably was good. Not the passing out; that had been quite worrisome. The lack thereof was good. Still, that wasn't a helpful thought because it didn't answer the primary question: where did Izuku go? With a short huff, Toshinori put his book aside and stood, wincing as his joints cracked painfully. _Dammit,_ he thought, _I'm too young to be this old._ Grumbling under his breath at his own oxymoronic thoughts, he shuffled around the mounds of trash and scanned the area for any sign of his jitterbug. Or, at least, a horrible explosion of green curls (that, even after all this time, he desperately wanted to run his hands through because _fuck, they look so soft)._

Speaking of green curls, Toshinori turned his head, stopped short, and thought, _Bingo._ Because there he was, his favorite jitterbug in all of his glory, dead asleep. Sprawled out across a tire with a tiny drop of drool dribbling down the corner of his mouth, looking _utterly_ attractive. Note the sarcasm. Snorting, Toshinori padded over to Izuku and crouched down, reaching out a hand and gently nudging the kid.

"Kiddo, I don't think that tire is a good bed." He whispered, shaking Izuku's shoulder. "C'mon, wake up."

Izuku hardly twitched, save for his brows scrunching together just slightly. Toshinori sighed and tried again.

"Buddy. How're you going to clean up this trash if you're sleeping on it?"

That elicited a response, though it came out rather slurred. "'m gonna do that later."

"Why not now?"

"'m tired."

Toshinori looked down at the tire that Izuku was currently sprawled across and suppressed the sudden urge to make an awful joke. Looking around the area, Toshinori sighed. Izuku had made enough progress today...more than enough, actually. And, eyeing the darkening, orange sky above them, Toshinori figured it was about time for Izuku to go home anyway.

"Alright, then why don't you go on home? You've done alright today."

Izuku didn't say anything; he only hummed tiredly. He didn't move.

"Midoriya, did you hear me?"

This time, no response came. It was right then that Toshinori realized Izuku hadn't even opened his eyes yet. He'd most likely fallen right back asleep. Several more attempts to rouse the boy proved futile and Toshinori blew out an exasperated breath. Leaning back on his haunches, Toshinori reckoned that a garbage pile really wasn't the ideal place to sleep. Yet, Izuku was stubbornly refusing to stay awake. Toshinori didn't know the passcode to Izuku's phone, which left one option; if Izuku was going to sleep in his own bed, Toshinori would have to carry him home. It wasn't a big deal; Toshinori had done it a few times. Usually Izuku was awake for that though; just simply too exhausted to move on his own.

Well, like he already knew, it wasn't a big deal. Worming an arm underneath Izuku's neck, Toshinori gently lifted the kid into a sitting position. Keeping him propped upright, Toshinori wrapped Izuku's legs around his waist (which wasn't hard; Toshinori was a thin guy) and, wrapping one arm around Izuku's abdomen, Toshinori lifted him up. Izuku did the rest of the work for him; Izuku groggily lifted his arms up and wrapped them around Toshinori's neck and tucked his head into Toshinori's left shoulder. Keep one arm wrapped around Izuku's back, he supported Izuku's rump with his left forearm, and began the long trek to Izuku's mother's apartment. Now, here was to hoping that Izuku wouldn't flip out upon waking up to see Toshinori was carrying him home, should he wake up at all in the first place.

Toshinori paid little mind to the passerby around him, seeing no threat. Izuku's legs dangled uselessly, swaying as Toshinori walked. Izuku mumbled nothing in particular under his breath and nosed into the junction of Toshinori's neck, breathing out a quiet sigh. Toshinori huffed and rubbing his right hand up and down Izuku's back a bit. Pursing his lips, Toshinori thought that no fifteen year old had any business being as cute as Izuku was. There was no venom behind the thought; it was instead soaked in fondness. Toshinori tilted his head and gently pressed his cheek against Izuku's hair. A woman pushing a stroller looked up and smiled at Toshinori warmly. She opened her mouth and spoke.

"Sir, I'm sorry to bother you, but could I just say that your son is adorable?"

Toshinori nearly choked on the blood that found its way into his mouth.

"What?" He squeaked, rubbing Izuku's back when he began to stir.

The woman giggled, looking down at her own sleeping daughter in the stroller. "You really are such a sweet father for carrying him home. My husband would just wake our kid up. It's really nice to see such a close duo of father and son."

 _Go with it, Toshinori. Just go with it; it'll just be weird if you say he's not your son._ "Y-Yeah. I do love my son a lot." Fuck, what else should he say? "Your husband is an idiot if he doesn't love his kid like that." Jesus Christ, not that!

The woman didn't seem offended; instead, she laughed. "I think the same thing everyday. He's just not used to having a kid, I think. He'll come around. Well, I won't hinder you any longer. Have a nice day, sir."

"Y-You too, miss."

With that, the woman pushing a stroller went on with her day.

As Toshinori stood there, Izuku held securely in his arms, he wondered why calling Izuku his son had felt so right to say.

* * *

The emotion that had washed over Toshinori upon seeing _his_ boy struggling with that hideous _thing_ was so indescribably overwhelming and jarring that no string of words would ever be suitable enough to convey the amount of sheer terror and rage thrumming throughout his whole body. It was like a vice grip around his heart, a distortment of his very soul, for what he felt was no longer human; it couldn't be. The feelings were twisted, something strong. It burned like fire lacing his veins and creeping up his spine, leaving behind a charred heart and the desire to do nothing but _hate._ He was intoxicated with emotion he had never had the intention of ever feeling but had only felt one other time before, on that fateful day he had stood across from _him_. The acidity of it was churning in his gut, waiting to be spewed from every inch of himself. But he could not. He'd done so only once before, and that had left him with a scar that no one could heal. With his heartbeat thundering in his ears and fire scorching his insides, Toshinori couldn't bring a smile to his face.

Not this time.

"Fear not," He growled, tearing his tie from his neck, "for I am here."

He leapt into action, lifting Aizawa, Asui, Mineta, and _his_ boy, and casting them out of the danger zone. _His_ boy was trying to tell him something, but his ears were buzzing too loudly with _something_ to listen. He turned, smiled, and said,

"Young Midoriya, fear not-"

He dashed away and landed a devastating blow at the _monstrosity_ before him.

And with his swing, he hissed too lowly for anyone else to hear, _"-I will not let you lay another finger on my_ _ **son**_ _."_

* * *

Toshinori sighed into his sake cup and, placing it down, rubbed his face tiredly. Gran Torino sat across from him and, without a word, pushing a plate of taiyaki towards him. Picking up one of the fish-shaped treats, Toshinori took a ginger bite and tiredly chewed it.

"What's with the long face, young man?" Toshinori flinched as Gran Torino snapped, whose face suddenly softened a bit. "Boy, you _cannot_ still be terrified of me after all of this time."

Toshinori looked up and chanced, "You used to punch me so hard that I'd throw up at _least_ once every few days."

Gran Torino pursed his lips, and with narrowed eyes pointed a finger at Toshinori. "It helped with weight loss, didn't it?"

Toshinori waited for Torino to launch himself at him, but he didn't.

Feeling slightly more confident, he grumbled, "You mean, it helped instill traumatic flashbacks into me well into my adult years."

Gran Torino opened his mouth to retort, but slowly closed it. "I...I was rather harsh with you." Torino heaved a sigh, and for a moment, Toshinori saw a flash of regret glimmer in Torino's eyes. "You know...you've grown into fine man, Toshinori."

Toshinori's heart thudded in his ears at the compliment. He waited for the insult that was sure to follow, but it never came.

"Thank you."

Knocking his knuckles against the table, Gran Torino spoke once again. "That boy...Izuku, was it? He's a great kid."

Toshinori stopped thumbing the peeling wood on the table and looked up. He smiled softly.

"I don't think I could've picked a better successor."

Gran Torino didn't say anything for a long time.

"Toshinori...he's perfect. He's rough around the edges, sure, but he is absolutely brimming with potential and ambition. I'm sure that in no time, he'll be just as good as a hero as you."

Toshinori closed his eyes and thought fondly of Izuku. "No...he'll be ten times the hero I ever was. I'm sure of it."

Gran Torino opened and closed his mouth. "...Never did think I'd say this, least of all to you, but I think you're right."

They sat in comfortable silence for a long, long time.

"Toshinori."

Toshinori looked up at Gran Torino.

"He's...he's not just a successor anymore, is he?"

His heart swelled with _something_ as he said, "No. He's my son."

He wondered why that made him want to cry.

* * *

It had been a long, hairy fight for the boys, and though he was already aware there was little to no chance of them winning, Toshinori was a little sad that Katsuki and Izuku hadn't bested him. He was aware that there was some sort of history between them, and he had hoped that they could've overcome that a little earlier, but alas, with Katsuki barely conscious underneath his arm and Izuku only a short distance away, he was sure that all was lost for the kids.

Except-

With a desperate yet determined smile on his face, there was Izuku, snarling, _"Out of my way, All Might!"_

Let Toshinori tell you, he definitely wasn't expecting just how hard Izuku's punch would truly be. It was strong enough to leave him briefly shellshocked, and that was enough for Izuku to sweep Katsuki out from under him and dart away just as fast as he'd come. Toshinori could only watched in stunned awe as Izuku flew through the exit gate with Katsuki in tow.

 _Kid, there really is no wall too high for you to climb, is there?_

The gate yelled congratulations, and soon thereafter, it was announced, _"This is an announcement; the second team to pass is Midoriya and Bakugou!"_

 _That's just the kind of man you are though. Back when you saved him all that time ago was the very start, why did I think any different would happen?_

Toshinori, despite his cheek aching fiercely, couldn't hold back a wide, proud grin.

"That's my son." He whispered.

* * *

His hands trembled as the clung to Izuku's broken body as his feet slammed against the asphalt beneath him. Izuku's blood, his very fucking life was slipping through his hands and he couldn't do a damned thing. He wanted to scream, cry, breaking something, breaking _someone,_ throw up, throw himself off of a goddamn bridge. He'd heard it coming; he'd _heard_ it, the soft susurration of its footsteps, like a threatening whisper, and he, like a fucking _idiot,_ had assumed it was Aizawa. It hadn't been the footsteps behind him had _stopped-_ \- hadn't been until _his_ Izuku, his _son_ let out an agonized scream that he realized his stupid mistake. He used the amount of One for All he had thought long gone and destroyed the noumu, but Izuku probably wasn't going to make it out alive. Nothing could change that; but he could still _run_ and fucking _hope._

He could feel the sweat drench his skin, the throbbing of his chest, his eyes, his legs, his _everything._ Izuku's shriek was still vibrating in his ears, flooding every thought alongside _I fucked up I fucked up oh God I fucked up please don't take him don't take him from me_ _ **please-**_

"I-Izuku come on, _come on_ you've got to stay awake, _please."_ Toshinori croaked, shaking Izuku gently.

Izuku choked out a sob but kept his eyes open.

 _Goddammit, goddammit,_ _ **goddammit-**_

Toshinori wasn't a religious man; he never was and was never going to be. But in that moment, in that one moment, he prayed to any god that would bother to listen to him that they wouldn't take his son. He couldn't hear his own rapid breathing, but he could feel Izuku's breath get shallower and shallower with every second that ticked by too fast, he could feel it so vividly that he couldn't stop the tears from dripping down his face.

"A-All Might, p-please...don't c-cry." Izuku's voice was barely above a whisper.

Toshinori _sobbed._ "You can't leave me too, just stay _awake._ Izuku, _please."_

Toshinori had used to think, "There is nothing to fear but fear itself," but now he knew what utter _bullshit_ that was. In the world he lived in, that wasn't true. Not anymore. There were so many things to be afraid of, and so many things worse than fear. He knew that firsthand now, because his boy, his _son_ was dying in his arms and he was _too slow_ and he couldn't do _anything_ and _he needed Izuku to stay with him, he needed Izuku, please don't take him from me, please._ He had never quite believed those tales of parents suddenly getting an insane amount of strength to save their child but good _god_ did he believe it now, he knew it was _true_ because even with the smallest remnants of One for All left in him, he had never gone so fast in his entire life _._

The hospital finally came into view and he _sobbed_ in relief. He didn't bother slowing down; he was more than happy to break the doors off the hinges.

" _Please."_ He gasped. " _Save my son."_

In no time at all, there was a barrage of white coats and his son was taken from him.

He had no idea what to do.

A woman, a nurse, she grabbed his hand and guided him into a room.

"Sir, you're going into shock." She said gently. "I need you to take some deep breaths for me."

The paralyzing hurt spread through his body like icy, liquid metal. He clenched my fists as he hesitantly took each step. He noticed his feet tremble. His legs twitched, fighting the impulse to whirl around and sprint down that damp, shadowed corridor back to his boy, his son; his throat closed in threat of screaming at the underpaid, overworked staff who were taking care of his boy because he wanted to see his boy, know that he was still _alive,_ but he couldn't do _anything._ Instead, he sucked in a breath as slowly as he could. It trembled in his throat. Slowly, his brain picked up his feet in an unbalanced gait, more weight piling onto them with every harrowing step. Reality fell upon him and attacked his brain. Izuku was dying. He was helpless. That was all.

"That's it, sir. In and out. You see the bed here? I need you to lay down on it for me, can you do that?"

His son was dying.

"Good job. I'm going to elevate your feet a bit, don't move too much. Is that alright?"

His son was dying.

"Alright, good. You see that picture over there? Describe it to me, nice and slow."

His son was dying.

"Very good. Alright, look around. Tell me three things you see on each side of the room. What do you see on the right side?"

His son was dying.

"How about in front of you? What three things do you see in front of you?"

His _son_ was dying.

"Alright, left. What three things can you see to the left?"

His son was _dying_.

"Perfect. Okay, now let's take deep breaths, and count to ten."

 _His son was dying._

Toshinori drew in a long, quavering breath.

"Ma'am?"

"What is it?"

" _Please save my son."_

* * *

Toshinori had been inconsolably crying for 34 minutes now, and he still had no intention of stopping yet. Inko was doing the same thing.

Toshinori couldn't help but chuckle at the thought of Izuku waking up to the confusing sight of Toshinori and Inko, snot-faced and red-eyed, sobbing their hearts out over him. Toshinori thanked every god he could think of, regardless of whether or not they existed, that someone with such a fantastic healing quirk had been at the hospital when Toshinori had arrived. It had been sheer dumb luck, and Toshinori had never felt so much relief in his life. Izuku had flatlined three times, but the person had come in, worked their magic, and after six hours, he was fully stable and out of ICU. It was...it was incredible. Something out of a storybook. A miracle that Toshinori had never thought possible.

Inko leaned over and rested her head against Toshinori's shoulder. He nudged her away for a moment before wrapping his arm around her properly.

"Izuku's nurse said you were one of the worst cases of shock that she'd seen in years." Inko said quiet with a rough, raw voice.

"Sure did feel like it." Toshinori rasped, squeezing Inko's shoulder. "I faced down a dude who could destroy an entire city by waving his hand, and I don't think I was nearly as scared then than I was last night."

Inko hiccuped a laugh, brushing the tears from her chubby cheeks. "You really do love my son, don't you?"

Toshinori didn't bother with denying it. "More than anything."

Inko heaved a sigh and smiled tiredly up at Toshinori. "I suppose it's fitting to call him _our_ son then, isn't it?"

Toshinori squeezing her a little tighter seemed to be enough of an answer for Inko. _  
_After a long few hours of raking his eyes over Izuku, drinking in the sight of his chest moving up and down steadily, Izuku stirred. With a low moan, he cracked open his eyes and peered around the dimmed room. Izuku's lips curled into a lazy grin, and he rasped,

"Hi, mom." and, after a moment of consideration, he breathed out, "Hello, dad."

Itwas right then and there that Toshinori realized that what made his heart swell and what made his heart ache like nothing else when he looked at Izuku truly was nothing but _love_. Pure, honest to god, _love._ Tears swam in Toshinori's eyes and trickled down his cheeks as he barely whispered,

" _Hello, my son."_

 ** _Y'ALL ITS DAD WEEK AND IM ALREADY KILLING Y'ALL_**


End file.
